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Kushiel's Avatar (Kushiel's Legacy) Mass Market Paperback – March 13, 2004
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The land of Terre d' Ange is a place of unsurpassed beauty and grace. It is said that angels found the land and saw it was good...and the ensuing race that rose from the seed of angels and men live by one simple rule:
Love as thou wilt.
Phèdre nó Delaunay is a woman born with a scarlet mote in her left eye and sold into indentured servitude as a child. Her bond was purchased by a nobleman, and he was the first one to recognize who and what she is: one pricked by Kushiel's Dart, chosen to forever experience pain and pleasure as one.
Phèdre's path has taken a strange and sometimes dangerous course. She has lain with princes and pirate kings, battled a wicked temptress who is still determined to win the crown at any cost, and saved two nations with her courageous actions and sacrifices. Through it all she has had the devoted swordsman Joscelin at her side, who knew from the beginning what she was. Her very nature is a torturous thing for them both, and it is a bane on their lives--but he is sworn to her and by accepting who she is, Joscelin has never violated the central precept of the angel Cassiel: to protect and serve.
But Phèdre's plans will put his pledge to the test, for she has never forgotten her childhood friend Hyacinthe. She has spent ten long years searching for the key to free him from his eternal indenture to the Master of Straights, a bargain with the gods that he struck so that a nation could be saved; in doing so, he took Phèdre's place as a sacrifice. She cannot forget, and she cannot forgive--herself or the gods. She is determined to seize one last hope to redeem her friend, even if it means her death.
Their search will bring Phèdre and Joscelin on a dangerous path that will carry them across the world, to fabled courts and splendid vistas, to distant lands where madness reigns and souls are currency, and down a fabled river to a land forgotten by most of the world.
And to a power so mighty that none dare speak its name.
Kushiel's Avatar is the concluding volume in Jacqueline Carey's evocative novels about the enigmatic Phèdrenó Delaunay; the third in a triptych of beautifully constructed historical fantasies that combine passion and danger, great battles of the sword and soul, deep eroticism, and mystical enigmas.
- Print length768 pages
- LanguageEnglish
- PublisherTor Fantasy
- Publication dateMarch 13, 2004
- Dimensions4.25 x 1.24 x 6.81 inches
- ISBN-100765347539
- ISBN-13978-0765347534
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Kushiel's Avatar (Kushiel's Legacy)Mass Market Paperback
Editorial Reviews
Review
“Stunning, clever, sultry, and mysterious, Phèdre is an ideal and original heroine.” ―Associated Press
“With help from a huge but vividly characterized cast, Phèdre's final quest turns these grand abstractions into the stuff of life.” ―Locus
From the Back Cover
"With help from a huge but vividly characterized cast, Phèdre's final quest turns these grand abstractions into the stuff of life."--Locus
The land of Terre d'Ange is a place of unsurpassed beauty and grace. It is said that angels found the land and saw it was good ... and the ensuing race that rose from the seed of angels and men live by one simple rule: Love as thou wilt.
Phèdre nó Delaunay is a woman pricked by Kushiel's Dart, chosen to forever experience pain and pleasure as one. Her path has been strange and dangerous, and through it all the devoted swordsman Joscelin has been at her side. Her very nature is a torturous thing for them both, but he is sworn to her and he has never violated his vow: to protect and serve.
But Phèdre's plans put Joscelin's pledge to the test, for she has never forgotten her childhood friend Hyacinthe. She has spent ten long years searching for the key to free him from his eternal indenture, a bargain he struck with the gods-- to take Phèdre's place as a sacrifice and save a nation. Phèdre cannot forgive-- herself or the gods. She is determined to seize one last hope to redeem her friend, even of it means her death.
The search will bring Phèdre and Joscelin across the world, to distant courts where madness reigns and souls are currency, and down a fabled river to a land forgotten by most of the world.
And to a power so mighty that none dare speak its name.
About the Author
Jacqueline Carey is the author of the bestselling Kushiel trilogy (Kushiel's Dart, Kushiel's Chosen, and Kushiel's Avatar) and her epic fantasy duology, The Sundering (Banewreaker and Godslayer). She has won the Locus Award for Best First Novel and the Romantic Times Reviewers' Choice Award for Best Fantasy Novel. Her books have been listed on many booksellers' top ten fantasy books lists. Always an avid reader, Carey began writing fiction as a hobby in high school. After graduating from Lake Forest College, she worked for six months at a bookstore in London, and returned to the United States with a driving passion to write professionally. She resides in western Michigan.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
ONE
It ended with a dream.
Ten years of peace, the ancient Oracle of Asherat-of-the-Sea promised me; ten years I had, and in that time, my fortune prospered along with that of Terre d’Ange, my beloved nation. So often, a time of great happiness is recognized only in hindsight. I reckoned it a blessing that the Oracle’s promise served also as warning, and let no day pass without acknowledging its grace. Youth and beauty I had yet on my side, the latter deepening as the years tempered the former. Thus had my old mentor, Cecilie Laveau-Perrin, foretold, and if I had counted her words lightly in the rasher youth of my twenties, I knew it for truth as I left them behind.
‘Tis a shallow concern, many might claim, but I am D’Angeline and make no apology for our ways. Comtesse de Montrève I may be, and indeed, a heroine of the realm--had not my deeds been set to verse by the Queen’s Poet’s own successor?--but I had come first into my own as Phèdre nó Delaunay, Naamah’s Servant and Kushiel’s Chosen, an anguissetteand the most uniquely trained courtesan the realm had ever known. I have never claimed to lack vanity.
For the rest, I had those things which I prized above all else, not the least of which was the regard of my Queen, Ysandre de la Courcel, who gifted me with the Companion’s Star for my role in securing her throne ten years past. I had seen then the makings of a great ruler in her; I daresay all the realm has seen it since. For ten years, Terre d’Ange has known peace and abiding prosperity; Terre d’Ange and Alba, ruled side by side by Ysandre de la Courcel and Drustan mab Necthana, the Cruarch of Alba, whom I am privileged to call my friend. Surely the hand of Blessed Elua was upon that union, when love took root where the seeds of political alliance were sown! Truly, love has proved the stronger force, conquering even the deadly Straits that divided them.
Although it took Hyacinthe’s sacrifice to achieve it.
Thus, the nature of my dream.
I did not know, when I awoke from it, trembling and short of breath, tears leaking from beneath my closed lids, that it was the beginning of the end. Even in happiness, I never forgot Hyacinthe. I had not dreamed of him before, it is true, but he was ever on my mind. How could he not be? He was my oldest and dearest friend, the companion of my childhood. Not even my lord Anafiel Delaunay, who took me into his household at the age of ten, who trained me in the arts of covertcy and whose name I bear to this day, had known me so long. What I am, what I became, I owe to my lord Delaunay, who changed with a few words my fatal flaw to a sacred mark, the sign of Kushiel’s Dart. But it was Hyacinthe who knew me first, who was my friend when I was naught but a whore’s unwanted get, an orphan of the Night Court with a scarlet mote in my left eye that made me unfit for Naamah’s Service, that made superstitious countryfolk point and stare and call me names.
And it was Hyacinthe of whom I dreamed. Not the young man I had left to a fate worse than death--a fate that shouldhave been mine--but the boy I had known, the Tsingano boy with the black curls and the merry grin, who, in an overturned market stall, reached out his hand to me in conspiratorial friendship.
I drew a deep, shuddering breath, feeling the dream recede, tears still damp on my cheeks. So simple, to arouse such horror! In my dream, I stood in the prow of a ship, one of the swift, agile Illyrian ships I knew so well from my adventures, and wept to watch a gulf of water widen between my vessel and the rocky shore of a lonely island, where the boy Hyacinthe stood alone and pleaded, stretching out his arms and calling my name. He had solved a riddle there, naming the source of the Master of the Straits’ power. I had answered it too, but Hyacinthe had used the dromonde, the Tsingano gift of sight, and his answer went deeper than I could follow. He won us passage across the Straits when we needed it most and the cost of it was all he had, binding him to those stony shores for eternity, unless the geiscould be broken. This I had sought for many years to do, and in my dream, as in life, I had failed. I could hear the crew behind me, cursing in despair against the headwinds that drove us further away, the vast expanse of grey water widening between us, Hyacinthe’s cries following, his boyish voice calling out to the woman I had become, Phèdre, Phèdre!
It shivered my flesh all over to remember it and I turned unthinking toward comfort, curling my body against Joscelin’s sleeping warmth and pillowing my tear-stained cheek on his shoulder--for that was the last and greatest of my gifts, and the one I treasured most: Love. For ten years, Joscelin Verreuil has been my consort, and if we have bickered and quarreled and wounded each other to the quick a thousand times over, there is not a day of it I would relinquish. Let the realm laugh--and they do--to think of the union betwixt a courtesan and a Cassiline; we know what we are to one another.
Joscelin did not wake, but merely stirred in his sleep, accommodating his body to mine. Moonlight spilled through the window of our bedchamber overlooking the garden; moonlight and the faint scent of herbs and roses, rendering his fair hair silver as it spread across the pillows and making the air sweet. It is a pleasant place to sleep and make love. I pressed my lips silently to Joscelin’s shoulder, resting quiet beside him. It might have been Hyacinthe, if matters had fallen out otherwise. We had dreamed of it, he and I.
No one is given to know what might have been.
So I mused, and in time I slept and dreamed that I mused still until I awoke to find sunlight lying in a bright swathe across the bed-linens and Joscelin already awake in the garden. His daggers flashed steel as he moved through the seamless series of exercises he had performed every day of his life since he was ten years old, the training-forms of a Cassiline Brother. But it was not until I had risen and bathed and was breaking my fast that he came in to greet me, and when he did, his blue eyes were somber.
“There is news,“ he said, “from Azzalle.”
I stopped with a piece of honey-smeared bread halfway to my mouth and set it down carefully on my plate, remembering my dream. “What news?”
Joscelin sat down opposite me, propping his elbows on the table and resting his chin on his hands. “I don’t know. It has to do with the Straits. Ysandre’s courier would say no more.”
“Hyacinthe,“ I said, feeling myself grow pale.
“Mayhap.” His voice was grave. “We’re wanted at court as soon as you’re ready.”
He knew, as well as I did; Joscelin had been there, when Hyacinthe took on the doom that should have been mine, using the dromondeto trump the offering of my wits and consecrate himself to eternal exile. A fine fate for the Prince of Travellers, condemned to an endless existence on a narrow isle amid the deep waters that divided Terre d’Ange and Alba, bound to serve as heir to the Master of the Straits.
Such had been the nature of his bargain. The Master of the Straits would never be free of his curse until someone took his place. One of us had to stay. I had known it was necessary; I would have done it. And it would have been a worthwhile sacrifice, for had it not been made, the Alban ships would never have crossed the Straits, and Terre d’Ange would have fallen to the conquering army of Skaldi.
I had answered the riddle and my words were true: the Master of the Straits drew his power from the Lost Book of Raziel. But the dromondelooks backward as well as forward, and Hyacinthe’s answer went deeper. He had seen the very genesis of the geisitself, how the angel Rahab had loved a mortal woman who loved him not, and held her captive. How he had gotten a son upon her, and how she had sought to flee him nonetheless, and perished in the effort, along with her beloved. How Rahab had been punished by the One God for his disobedience, and how he had wreaked the vengeance of an angry heart upon his son, who would one day be named Master of the Straits. How Rahab brought up pages of the Lost Book of Raziel, salvaged from the deep. How Rahab gave them to his son, gave him mastery of the waters and bound him there, on a lonely isle of the Three Sisters, condemning him to separate Terre d’Ange and Alba, for so long as Rahab’s own punishment endured.
This was the fate Hyacinthe had inherited.
For ten years and more, I had sought a way to break the curse that bound him there, immersing myself in the study of Yeshuite lore in the hope of finding a key to free him. If a key existed, it could be found in the teachings of those who followed Yeshua ben Yosef, the One God’s acknowledged scion. But if it did, I had not found it.
It was one of the few things at which I had failed utterly.
“Let’s go.” I pushed my plate away, appetite gone. “If something’s happened, I need to know it.”
Joscelin nodded and rose to summon the stable-lad to make ready the carriage. I went to change my attire to something suitable for court, donning a gown of amber silk and pinning the Companion’s Star onto the décolletage, the diamond etched with Elua’s sigil glittered in its radiant gold setting. It is a cumbersome honor, that brooch, but if the Queen had sent for me, I dared not appear without it. Ysandre was particular about the honors she bestowed.
My carriage is well-known in the City of Elua, bearing on its sides the revised arms of Montrève. Here and there along the streets, cheerful salutes and blown kisses were offered, and I suppressed my anxiety to accept such tribute with a smile, for it was no fault of my admirers that my nerves were strung taut that morning. Joscelin bore it with his...
Product details
- Publisher : Tor Fantasy; Reissue edition (March 13, 2004)
- Language : English
- Mass Market Paperback : 768 pages
- ISBN-10 : 0765347539
- ISBN-13 : 978-0765347534
- Item Weight : 1.01 pounds
- Dimensions : 4.25 x 1.24 x 6.81 inches
- Best Sellers Rank: #2,497,318 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
- #11,532 in Historical Fantasy (Books)
- #23,273 in Romantic Fantasy (Books)
- #39,971 in Epic Fantasy (Books)
- Customer Reviews:
About the author

Jacqueline Carey is the author of the New York Times bestselling Kushiel's Legacy series of historical fantasy novels, The Sundering epic fantasy duology, postmodern fables "Santa Olivia" and "Saints Astray," and the Agent of Hel contemporary fantasy series. Carey lives in west Michigan. Although often asked by inquiring fans, she does not, in fact, have any tattoos.
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Set 10 years after Book 2, Kushiel’s Chosen, Phedre and Joscelin have had all that time to settle into their relationship. Both have made compromises to their wants in order to make room for their love. Phedre only takes two assignations a year in Naamah’s service while Joscelin has learned to let his sense of humor show here and there. But through this well-earned and hard-found bliss, Phedre has never forgotten Hyacinthe and his sacrifice for Terre D’Ange and herself. He still lives an isolated life out on the Three Sisters, learning the powers of the Master of the Straights. Then she receives an unexpected missive from an old enemy and one-time patron, Melisande. Phedre’s adventuring days are not over yet.
This is a re-read for me. I have enjoyed this series over and over again and it was awesome to revisit this book as part of a read along with several blogger friends. They brought new insights to this much beloved book. I have always found this book to be the darkest of the first trilogy. The entire series deals with consent in its many myriad forms. However, in this installment of the series we see how those lines can get blurred and shattered apart. This epic fantasy is not for the faint of heart.
There’s two plot lines for Joscelin and Phedre to solve in this book and one has always been more interesting to me than the other. First, as we know from Book 2, Melisande had a son who she somehow spirited away. Now, it is up to Phedre and Joscelin to track down this long-lost Prince of the Blood, Imriel. Second, the Master of the Straights has passed his powers on to Hyacinthe after a long 10-year apprenticeship. Phedre still searches for the key to free him and will never give up.
The search for Imriel is the one that has always held my attention. It deals with child slavery and the broken trust of a child and how, if ever, to recover that trust. Meanwhile, I have never gotten caught up fully in Hyacinthe’s plight. He went into the agreement with full knowledge as an adult. I know the life on the Three Sisters is a complete 180 for him, being trapped on these three isles with only his servants and the Master of the Straights for company. And yet…. Well, I always felt that he was moping about it, for ten years. He wasn’t trying to make the most of the situation. He wasn’t making an effort to embrace the few, yet awesomely powerful, perks of his new station in life and I think that is what dampened my feelings towards him. Meanwhile, Phedre was all in an anguish over him every other chapter and felt this great survivor’s guilt for not having been the one trapped on that isle instead of Hyacinthe. It’s totally in keeping with Phedre’s personality, and yet I still found it a little tiring.
So, setting aside that one tiny quibble, this is an excellent book to wrap up the first trilogy. Phedre’s gods ask her to take on a dangerous and most difficult task. The asking is subtle and I feel there’s plenty there for each reader to interpret their own way. The magic of Terre D’Ange is not often direct. Phedre’s deities will be tested by the dark powers that have taken up residence in Darsanga, a land far to the east of Terre D’Ange. Phedre and Joscelin won’t be able to count on any help from friends and allies. My heart really went out to Joscelin on this one. In the past books, Phedre’s actions have often tested Joscelin’s vows, but this is a new level. I think both Phedre and Joscelin lost a little bit of themselves.
There’s plenty of travel for Phedre and Joscelin in this story. New lands and new cultures are explored. The Yeshuites continue to play a part in this tale. Indeed, they have quite a significant role in part of the adventure. It’s easy to see how both Phedre and Joscelin have grown throughout the series in this book. They take on meeting new peoples in stride and adapting their own manners to be more accommodating to their hosts. In Book 1 and Book 2, Phedre can sometimes come off as a little conceited. I think she’s really grown out of that here in Book 3. She still observes differences, but she’s not longer simply comparing those differences to the ways of Terre D’Ange.
As with the first two books, the author doesn’t shy away from detailed sex scenes. They are always used to move the plot forward or show some aspect of the characters. One of the reasons that I adore these books is that they don’t ignore the fact that sex is a main driver for human behavior and that how we treat someone both outside and inside the bedroom is important (and sometimes is mightily different). This book contains one of my favorite sex scenes of all time. It involves fishing. The scene was moving, beautiful, arousing, loving, sensual, and meaningful.
Enough gushing. You know by now that I adore this book even if I find it the darkest of the three. I also find that it holds the most food for thought. The myriad of characters show their strengths, and try to hide their weaknesses, in a variety of ways. It’s not just swords and muscles that will win your way through this adventure. The ending was quite satisfying. Not everyone got everything they were hoping for, but everyone got enough.
The Narration: Once again, Anne Flosnik gives a stellar performance. The list of accents needed for this trilogy grows yet again with this installment. I can’t imagine the amount of research she had to put into this before she could begin the narration. Her character voices are always distinct and she holds this accent or that accent steady for each character. I love her little kid voice for Imriel. Great narration!
In this concluding chapter of the trilogy, Phedre and Joscelin undertake their most dangerous and heart-wrenching adventure yet as they venture both into the Heart of Darkness and then a grueling quest to find the Name of God which is the key to rescuing their long-suffering friend Hyacinthe. The story also introduces a refreshing new character in Imriel, the son of Melisandre, He is a welcome addition to the story and helps to show the growth of the two main characters and also be the child that for a myriad of reasons they could never have themselves. While I wont go into the details of how everything fits together, this was a satisfying conclusion to an awesome trilogy that explored the themes of love, self-sacrifice, and faith.
So why four stars instead of five? (SPOILERS AHEAD)
1) Though the book is strong in emphasizing the theme of self-sacrifice for a greater (if not always understood) purpose by Phedre, it confounded me to see the selfishness she displayed at various points of the story. My heart broke for Joscelin throughout. What he was forced to endure at Drujan was both cruel and brutal, but I understand why Phedre needed to do that and why he chose to stick with her. The most aggravating part to me though was near the conclusion of the book, when they are on their way to try and free Hyacinthe. Throughout the books, I always viewed him as her best friend and someone she needed in her life, but never someone that was a true love interest. So when Phedre basically tells Joscelin, a man who literally goes to hell and back for this woman, that she doesnt know who she is going to choose to be with once they do free Hyas, I almost fell off my chair. It did not ring true at all and made zero sense. Even worse, when they finally do free him, the author takes the choice out of Phedre's hand and lets Hyacinthe decide for her. This to me really marred what had been an epic love story for P and J throughout the series, as it should have been Phedre making that decision and rewarding Joscelin for everything he did on her behalf.
2) The other quibble I have with the story is with Melisandre. if anyone throughout the series has been the true third point of the triangle with p & J, it is her. She has always been an engaging villain and alluring temptress to Phedre. However, even here, after all they have been through, and all the defeats she has had at Phedre's hand, she still manages to basically end every interaction between the two with the upper hand and hold an almost magical power over her. Seeing this was basically the end of the Phedre story, it would have been nice to see her claim some self-respect by saying no or refusing to give in to Melisandre's grip over her, so she could finish up with some sort of true victory between the two. As it was she basically lies to Joscelin several times about her relationship with Mel and makes sure she has plenty of time alone with her so she can make out with her out of his presence.
Overall, despite those issues, I loved the book and the series. Even though at times, I absolutely hated Phedre, I loved her too and was impressed how the author was able to make an unforgettable hero out of a "whore's unwanted get". There were so many heartwarming moments and brutal lows, that one could not help but feel tense and engaged throughout, with a clear need to know how things would end. I will definitely read this series again and look forward to undertaking the next chapters of the saga centered around Imriel.
Top reviews from other countries
Ten years ago, Melisande's attempt on the Queen's life failed, imrisoning her in the temple of Asherat-on-the-sea and hiding her son, Imriel, from the world. In that time, Phedre has been searching for the Name of God to free her friend, Hyacinthe, who yet stands as the Master of the Straits - without finding it.
Now, though, Melisande sends for Phedre; her son is missing from where he has lived this past decade. And she offers Phedre a choice - her son for the Name of God she so desires.
We all know what happens next, of course - in this trilogy we've all learned our favourite character. She accepts - throwing her into her darkest journey yet, where she will have to face both her own gods and herself.
There is no way this could have been better, in any respect. I loved the first two, Kushiel's Dart and Chosen, and I love Avatar as well!










